


Bind What Once Was Broken

by JenniM777



Series: Keithtober 2019 [24]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Faerie/Voltron AU, Lance and Keith are elves, M/M, Summer Court of Faerie, Winter Court of Faerie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 10:07:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22714333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniM777/pseuds/JenniM777
Summary: Day 24 of Keithtober - Royalty
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Keithtober 2019 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1504211
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	Bind What Once Was Broken

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been reading Holly Black's Cruel Prince trilogy and for this royalty prompt I wanted to try my hand at delving into the land of Faerie and the Summer and Winter Courts. I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> There is some character deaths but it happens before the story takes place and I wasn't sure if I should label them as a warning or not but if anyone feels it needs to be tagged please let me know.

Long ago the Courts of Faerie were bonded and a balance was created. This bond kept each realm from lapsing into discord, into disarray, and most importantly dissolving into destruction. But now, the courts are ruled by the evil King Zarkon and his wife Queen Honerva. They have long since abandoned the old ways and because of this, the land of faerie is slowly disappearing, unless the curse can be reversed.

_Summer is gone and Winter is long since cold_

_Faerie children sing no more_

_The lands are bare and barren, the leaves no longer bud and blossom_

_Flowers fall never to grow again_

_The courts do not rule just or true, the heirs are false_

_On the longest day of the longest month of the coldest year_

_Bring the seasons together_

_Restore the balance_

_The land will love as the seasons love_

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~

Keith glares at the water nymph trying to catch his eye. She’s been trying to flirt with him all morning and Keith is really having a hard time to not give into his impulsiveness and stomp through the lake and drown her where she lays, fluttering her lashes suggestively laid out against a rock warming in the sun. He is nothing like the other elves of the Summer Courts. Where other elves are tanned and full of warm skin and silvery blond hair, Keith is pale as porcelain with inky black hair. Summer elves are full of life and laughter, they get their energy from the lands. Keith always feels sluggish and never seems to be able to keep pace even though he is the fastest on the training grounds.

Keith is nothing but a lowly palace guard to King Zarkon. He is lucky to have the station within the palace. He's an orphan, a nobody, no title and nothing to his name so he endures the harsh treatments, the beatings for failing to perform the tasks he’s set out to complete. At least he has a bed and a roof over his head at the palace, small though it is. He doesn’t know where his parents are from or if they’re even alive. All he knows is that he was raised in the Summer palace and trained into the position he has now.

Keith is brought out of his reverie by a loud splash. The water nymph is no longer sunning herself on the large rock. Keith is so startled by the elf that splashes through the pond that when he grabs his wrist, Keith doesn’t even think to grab his knife to defend himself. He’s speechless as he gets lost in the bluest pair of eyes he has ever seen. But even if doesn’t know who this elf is, he knows something is wrong. His face is pale, his eyes while a vivid blue are so very dull and he continuously looks over his shoulder as if he’s afraid of being caught. The elf tightens his hold on Keith’s wrist, “Give this to him.”

  
Keith tilts his head in confusion as a scrap of paper is shoved into his hand, “Who?”

“Promise me. He must get this. Faerie needs him.”

The strange elf pushes away from Keith and makes as if to leave the same way. Keith reaches out and their fingers brush for just a fraction. It’s as if the world stops, every leaf turns a bright green, the sky is as blue as sapphires, the water shimmers like diamonds and then it’s over. The colors bleed back to the dullness that has taken over them from ages long ago. Keith’s hand is still outstretched and the strange elf just stands there. They take each other in, eyes wide but they don’t touch. Keith is the first to speak after that, “Who am I meant to find?”

A bird cries in the distance and the elf panics, “I must go. You will know him. He is the true heir.”

Keith is left standing there holding the scrap of paper and trying to see where the elf disappeared. He shoves the paper in his pocket and makes his way back to the castle, no doubt to learn another lesson for his failures.

As the days pass, Keith forgets all about the strange elf until his fingers come across the scrap of paper that was handed to him. He fingers the soft creases and thinks back to the words spoken to him, ‘the true heir’. Keith shakes his head, Lotor is the true heir. While King Zarkon rules the Summer courts, Queen Honerva rules the Winter courts with her son Lotor as the next in line. But Lotor was away in the Winter Courts, not here in the Summer Courts where the elf had traveled to. This elf seemed to believe that whoever he was searching for was here in Summer.

Keith let out a sigh and shoved the small scrap of paper back into his pocket without looking at it. Even if Lotor wasn’t the true heir, Keith had no idea how to go about finding out who was. The only other option was to scour through the archives in the old library and that could take years upon years.

Keith made his way to the training grounds but halfway there he stopped and stared at a large tapestry. He had passed through these halls numerous times, day after day, but today something stood out. While it was true that King Zarkon ruled over the summer courts, this tapestry depicted an entirely other family. Keith’s eyes took in every detail, the color, the way the trees were filled with blossoms of pinks and yellows, leaves vibrant green like emeralds, and every person had eyes the same color blue that he had only seen one other time. He was startled by a voice at his side, “Ah, young Keith. Shiro was just asking after you at the training grounds. It seems you’re running a bit late.”

  
Keith blushed and ducked his head, “Yes sir. I’m sorry.”

  
“No worries. What is it that has you so caught up?”

Keith looked at the advisor to the king, “Coran, do you know who this family is on this tapestry?”

Coran twirled an end of his mustache, “Have you not learned about them in your studies?”

Keith shook his head, “I don’t have much formal education sir.”

Coran just nodded, “Well, this is the royal family that is said to be descended from Queen Mab herself. It is said that King Alfor was her direct descendant and chosen to rule over the Summer courts. That is his wife, his daughter, and his son. They have long since been lost long ago. Some believe they were murdered, others think they just moved on to the Island of Ever On. It’s been so long no one really remembers anymore.”

Keith continued to stare, “Why are their eyes so blue? Did Queen Mab have eyes that color?”

“The old songs say that she blessed the Summer Courts with eyes like the ocean. There’s also the Winter Courts but no one remembers what gift she bestowed them.”

Keith turned to look at Coran, “What do the Winter Courts have to do with King Alfor and his family?”

Coran smiled sadly, “Well, it is said that Queen Mab appointed one of her distant cousins to the throne of the Winter Court. Lady Krolia was a fierce and formidable warrior who had served as Queen Mab’s right hand for many years. Because of her loyal service, Queen Mab gave Lady Krolia the Winter Courts. But just like with King Alfor, the royal family of the Winter Court has long since been lost. Also believed to be murdered. But no one really knows and it’s all just a lot of fanciful story telling. You know we elves love a good story put to music.”  
  


~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~

If one looked hard enough they would see that the days grew shorter, the winds blew colder, the leaves were now more yellow than green. The air was turning bitter, no longer filled with the smell of flowers, only the pungent smell of decaying leaves and dying forests.

_Summer hides in Winter_

_Winter stolen into the Summer_

_Sapphire eyes will meet the one who wields the Knife_

_To steal a child of Faerie is to curse your life_

_To steal a royal child of Faerie is to die a thousand deaths_

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~

Just before the Winter Solstice, all of Faerie gathered for a night of festivities to welcome the winter. There were warm ciders, stages for storytelling, mock battles and sword fights, dancing and drinking of elderberry wine, and a night under the stars.

Keith always enjoyed the Winter Solstice festival. He enjoyed winter more than was probably acceptable for an orphan of the Summer court, but something about the cold air seemed to make Keith’s blood sing. He felt energized and refreshed, he felt….alive.

Long into the night, Keith found himself seated around a small fire listening to many of the elves from other courts telling stories. He was entranced by one of the elders. She was stooped over, her clothes gave the appearance of someone who was once regarded in high esteem but were now mostly tatters. She held herself with the grace of royalty but only went by the name Mother Mora. Keith couldn’t say what it was, but he was drawn to her. Her voice was strong, her eyes were sharp from years of battle or hardships, but something pulled at Keith as she spoke. Even though the tale she offered was one of treachery, something about her had Keith close to tears, an emotion he never let himself indulge in because tears meant weakness to King Zarkon.

Keith closed his eyes and continued to listen to her tale as the crowds grew larger and larger around her.

_…..and the castle of Summer was in chaos. The King was found slain in his bed as was his Queen. Alfor and Melinor would never rule again. Another wail sounded from the nursery as Princess Allura was also found slain at such a young age. But the boy…the Queen’s babe that had yet to be named when he was born just months earlier was gone. Spirited away by goblins or nymphs, perhaps living in the mortal world hidden away from the murderers, no one knows. It is said he wanders in the land of Winter where his skin pales and his hair dulls. He weakens every day away from his true home of the summer._

_Across the Sea of Fire, the Winter courts awoke to their own treachery. Lady Krolia was gone, her bed covered in blood and her bed sheets in tatters. In the nursery, her only son and the heir to the Winter throne also gone._

_Those who remember will tell you the families of both the Summer and Winter courts were destroyed out of greed. Power is a dangerous weapon when it is ill begotten. The thrones are weak, they will not stand. The true Kings of Summer and Winter are still alive. They will heal the lands with their union as was foretold long ago by Queen Mab and long after we are gone, their lineage will continue to rule over Faerie._

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~

Keith crept into the library for the fifth night in a row. Something about the story told by Mother Mora the night of the festival kept eating away at Keith. Why now all of a sudden? Why did he never pay any mind to the stories of the lost families to the Summer and Winter Courts?

Keith had so many questions. Why would an elf from the Summer court weaken if he was in the land of Winter? Was the same true for a Winter elf? They were of the same land. Was it because there was no true heir on the thrones? What happened to the child of Lady Krolia? Was he murdered like the Summer family? Was Lady Krolia murdered? So many thoughts swirled in his brain and night after night he only uncovered more questions. With a sigh, Keith slammed the large book shut that he was reading. He regretted his choice as he was instantly engulfed in a cloud of dust. He leaned his head back and shoved his hands in his pocket. Once again he was reminded of the scrap of paper he had been given. He was tasked with finding the true heir whoever that was.

Keith held the small paper and let out a breath he had been holding as he unfolded it. There was nothing special about the scrap other than it was soft like fabric and there in neat letters was the message:  
  


_Your knife holds the answers you seek._

Keith let out a gasp as there underneath the message was an intricate looking ‘S’. He had seen that symbol before, he saw it every day of his life. Without another thought he took off at a run careful to move silently through the palace halls lest he get caught out at such a late hour. When he reached his small room, Keith pulled his knife from under his pillow and stared at it. There, just where the hilt met the blade was a small oval in deep purple with the same ‘S’ as on the message. What did it all mean? Surely this was all just a joke. There was no way this message was meant for him, he was only an orphan, not the heir to any throne be it Summer or Winter.

The next day Keith knocked on the door to Coran’s study, “Ah Keith what can I do for you?”

Keith shuffled a bit nervously, “I was just wondering, I heard some of the stories about the missing heirs during the festival and I was wondering when everything happened?”

Coran smiled, “I see. It is all a bit fantastical to hear the stories under the magic of firelight and stars.”

Keith let out an internal breath of relief that Coran did not see the hidden truth of his words, “Yes it is a bit glamorous to think there is an heir just waiting to be found.”

Coran nodded, “Yes well, as I remember it all happened when the Winter Prince was almost a year old. Sometime in October almost twenty elf years past. The young Summer Prince was just months old.”

“Were they both stolen on the same night?”

Coran let out a thoughtful hum, “No one is sure, but all of the stories seem to agree that it was the same night or within a day or two of each other. As for stolen, most believe they were murdered but there is no proof to either.”

Keith just nodded, “In the story at the festival, it was said that the Summer Prince was in the Winter lands. Why would it make him weaker? I don’t understand?”

“Well, there’s a curse that comes from breaking the lineage set forth from Queen Mab. Until the rightful heir or heirs are restored, the land of Faerie is said to be dying. Because of that, if an elf is away from his home lands for too long they will weaken because they are not able to use their true magic. A summer elf in the land of winter will still be powerful compared to mere mortals but would not be as powerful as a true summer elf who is able to utilize the power of his land.”

Keith blinked several times, thinking on all that was being told, “How can the lands be healed? If they aren’t healed won’t all of Faerie be destroyed?”

  
Coran gave Keith a sad smile, “It is believed that the only way Faerie can return to its former glory is to reunite the Summer and Winter courts as they were meant to be. King Alfor’s daughter was to be wed to Lady Krolia’s son to honor Queen Mab’s request to keep the two courts united so that the seasons would balance each other. Now there is no balance. If the courts are never united then the cold will take over and destroy the Summer Court. Without Summer, the winter courts will become over powerful and Faerie will turn to ice. We cannot sustain such harsh coldness for too long, even a winter elf will despair and long for summer.”

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~

  
Winter had truly settled in the land of the Summer Court. Snow fell daily, the crops froze over, the once green grass now crunched beneath silent feet, and the Summer elves began to fall ill. Keith somehow knew this was all tied to the stories and yet he still felt as if he was missing a piece. He continued to doubt that he was the true Winter prince but the more he learned, the more it seemed to much like coincidence. He was weaker than a normal elf here in the Summer lands but now that winter had settled in, he felt stronger, swifter, fleet of foot, fast as a deer, and deadly as an asp. He was just an orphan that no one knew where he came from or who his parents were, born around the same time as the Winter Prince was, they were practically the same age. But if all of this was true then it also meant the King Zarkon and Queen Honerva were possibly behind the murders and disappearances. But if all that were true then who was the Summer Prince? Was he the elf that gave Keith the message that started this whole thing? Was he Alfor’s son? Was the blue eyes the clue that he needed?

Keith flopped back on his thin pillow and pulled his knife out. He traced the intricate symbol and thought over the note he had been given: _Your knife holds the answers you seek._

But how does a knife give him answers? Keith let out a gasp as his inattentiveness led to him running the sharp edge of his blade over his thumb. With a curse he sat up, but when he did his knife let off a soft purple glow and was suddenly elongated to a sword. There was also a soft snick and where the ornate purple gem sat on his hilt was, suddenly shifted to reveal a hidden compartment. Inside was another scrap of paper. Keith’s hands shook as he gently pulled the paper out and unfolded it.

_Seek out Mora in the Cave of Blades_

He was a damn fool, and if he got caught his life would be forfeit. He should not be outside of the castle without King Zarkon’s permission and especially not on some fool quest to the outskirts of Faerie searching for the lands of Marmora and the Cave of Blades. Keith let out a sigh as he continued on, trying to remember all that he had been told of the Faeries exiled to the dying lands of Marmora. Something about them turning against Zarkon and Honerva, forming a rebellion, and all those who sided with them were banished. Keith would be banished as well if he was caught tonight.

Keith’s breath came out in soft puffs of white air as he traversed farther to the edges of Faerie. He stopped for only a moment to drink the water from a nearly frozen stream, but when he stood he was met with an arrow to his face, “If you wish to survive you will tell me why you are here.”

The elf that faced Keith was female, but unlike most elves, her hair was short, just above her shoulders and a purplish blue in color. She had intricate markings on her arms and just as Keith made to step back, she pulled the string of her bow back even further, “If you run you will not survive. You are surrounded.”

  
Keith nodded, “I came looking for Mora. I was given a note to find her.”

“Are you armed?”

  
Keith tilted his head to his side, “I only have a knife.

”  
Before Keith realized what was happening, his knife had been taken from his belt. He didn’t try to fight even though his first instinct was to demand it be given back. The strange elf just stared at him, “You will follow me.”  
  


~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~

_Deep in the caves near the sea_

_The answers are hidden just out of reach_

_Open the book, open the book_

_See your life, know the truth_

_Open your eyes you beautiful child of Winter_

Keith was brought to a cave that looked far smaller than what it really was. Inside was an intricate labyrinth of tunnels and rooms that seemed to go on for miles. He was eventually led to a large open room that resembled a throne room without a throne. Two elves stood on either side of Keith and held swords in front of him to keep him from going any further. The female elf strode forward to talk to someone who seemed to be the leader. He was an elder elf, long silver hair braided and falling just over his shoulder. Keith noticed his eyes widen at the sight of his knife. There was a flick of his hands and Keith was suddenly the only one left with the elder, “What is your name and how did you come to have this very knife?”

  
Keith shuffled from foot to foot, “My name is Keith. I have had that knife for as long as I can remember.”

  
The elder stared at Keith, his eyes hard but also something else lingered behind the hard look. Keith wasn’t quite sure what it was. “Why are you here?”

  
“There was a note inside, to find Mora.”

“Mora is gone.”

  
Keith bowed his head, “I thought she was the one telling the story at the Winter Solstice festival.”

  
“She is an illusion we keep to throw the enemy off. Mora died many years ago of grief and heartbreak at never being able to find her son that had been stolen.”

For some reason that he couldn’t explain, Keith felt as if the ground was taken from under him. His knees threatened to buckle and he had to reach out a hand to steady himself on a nearby wall. He was vaguely aware of the door opening and soft voices.

“Bring me the book. It is time.”

  
“But Kolivan, we don’t know…”

  
“Axca, do not argue with me.”

“What if this is a trap?”

  
“Bring me the book. That is final.”

  
“As you wish.”  
  


Keith was handed a glass of water. He drank slowly and handed the glass back to Kolivan, “Thank you.”

  
Kolivan nodded and within moments Axca was back, book in hand. She handed it to Kolivan who in turn held it out to Keith, “I believe this might hold many of the answers you seek and even those that you did not realize you needed.”

  
Keith took the book warily, “I don’t understand.”

  
Kolivan nodded to the book, “You will.”

As Keith flipped through page after page he felt his heart begin to beat erratically. There were pictures, words, journal entries, drawings, clippings of hair and scraps of fabric. He traced the hand writing with reverent fingers soaking in the handwriting that was so like his own. He stopped at one drawing of an elegant lady with a delicate crown perched on her brow, and in her arms a chubby baby with porcelain skin and inky black hair. It was like being sucked back in time, a faint memory of a song, soft hands and gentle kisses. He was unaware that he was crying until the first drops of tears landed on the pages in front of him.

Keith traced the picture, the eyes that were just like his, the intricate carvings of the crown and finally looked up to meet Kolivan’s eyes, “She was my mother wasn’t she?”

  
Kolivan nodded, “Only her true heir would have been able to unlock the blade and discover her hidden note.”

Keith felt the truth of those words and his world threatened to tilt off its axis, “Then that means…”

  
Kolivan gently placed his hands on either side of Keith’s shoulders and pulled him to his feet, “You are the King of the Winter Courts.”  
  


Over the course of a few days, Keith had made the decision to never go back to the Summer Court under King Zarkon. He was able to send word and his trusted friend Shiro and the advisor, Coran were brought to the caves. Plans were drawn, tactics and strategies devised, and night after night Keith spent agonizing how he was supposed to overthrow the false reign of Queen Honerva and her son from his home. It was Coran who gave him the answer, “The land will know you, it will answer to the true King. When you step foot back into your homeland, every living thing will recognize you and will obey your command if you so will it to happen.”

“And what of the Summer Prince? How do we know he is there or how to rescue him and remove Zarkon?”

Coran nodded, “I believe the land of the Summer Court will answer to him just as your lands will answer to you. As for knowing who he is, perhaps you have already met him.”  
Keith jerked his head up and stared at Coran. But he remembered that day at the lake, the elf with blue eyes splashing through the water, his plea to find the true heir, the magic that flickered between them when they touched, the world awakening in dazzling color just to fade away as their fingers slipped away.

As more plans were made to take back the Winter Courts, the days continued to grow colder. Even so close to the Summer lands the air never grew this cold, but now it was becoming unbearable, to everyone it seemed except for Keith. He trained daily with Shiro and the other elves that were hidden in the Cave of the Blades and he excelled. The cold seemed to only strengthen him. Coran believed because they were close to Keith taking back his lands, he believed the land was rejoicing in Keith being found, giving their King their blessing and strength. Whatever the cause, Keith was ready for the mission to be over.

But not all elves were faring so well. Far away in the Winter Courts one elf was fading.

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~

_Little elf don’t despair_

_Little elf the sun still shines_

_Little elf let the cold in_

_Little elf your warmth will return when you see the ice_

Word spread like fire to the Winter courts that a rebellion was growing. There were rumors and whispers that the true King was coming. Because of the rumors, Queen Honerva and her son Prince Lotor redoubled their efforts to keep the elves of Winter under control but more and more continued to defy them. Skirmishes broke out and the guards were slowly being overtaken by the commoners. The Queen’s forces were slowly weakening. But she held her final weapon locked in a dungeon where the cold was bitter.

When the time finally came, Keith was atop a horse following many members of the Blades. He was surrounded as a means of protection, outfitted in the royal cape of the Winter Courts worn by his father so long ago and perched in a mass of black hair was a crown. It was not his father’s crown for that had been stolen by Queen Honerva but it was a beautiful crown of silver inlaid with pale purple amethyst. At his side was his mother’s knife and across his back was a sword. He looked every bit the part of a formidable King but his insides were liquid jelly, nerves a tangled mess. He did not know how to be a king, but he could fight. And if this was his home that had been stolen from him, then he would fight for it.

Queen Honerva’s guards met the party of elves at the gates of Winter. Their numbers would never hold back Keith and his new found supporters but they made a mighty showing at any length. The fighting was not as brutal as it could have been. Honerva had been captured but Lotor escaped, presumably heading towards the Summer Courts to warn his father, Zarkon. Keith watched from his horse as two members of the Blade brought Honerva forward, “Where is the Summer Prince?”

The laugh that Honerva let out was cold and cruel, “I’ll never tell you. Without the Summer Prince it won’t even matter that you’ve reclaimed your kingdom.”

Keith swung his leg over and dismounted from his horse. It was the first time he physically set foot to his homeland and immediately he felt a surge of something. He gave pause but then walked forward. Each footprint left behind in the snow was immediately filled with tiny bright red poinsettia leaves, the tree branches barren of leaves fluttered as if a breeze rippled around them, and the wind whispered a song of homecoming for the true king. Keith pressed his sword to Honerva’s neck, “I command you to tell me where the Summer Prince is being held.”

  
Honerva tilted her head back as if to laugh again, but she was suddenly caught off guard as her body betrayed her. She was now a prisoner of the true king, in his lands, and as such she unable to refuse any command. Her voice was ragged as she fought the urge to give in and reveal her secrets, “He is in the coldest dungeon left to die.”

  
Before Honerva could so much as blink, Keith swung his sword and her head rolled away, leaving splatters of blood and her body fell to the ground. He turned towards Kolivan and Axca, “Make way to the Summer courts and prepare for war. I will bring the true King of summer with me.”

Keith took off running towards the castle and with a silent plea, he prayed he would make it. The land of winter heard his prayer and dotted the way with tiny red flowers and Keith ran with all that he had. He ran through winding hallways he had never seen, he ran down steep and narrow stairs slick with water and then ice the further down he ran, doors opening before he touched them, the land eager to help their true king.

  
When Keith finally reached the last dungeon he burst through the cell and landed on his knees. He shook as he took in the lifeless body of the elf he had met only once before. His beautiful bronze skin now pale, his lips blue, and his skin was so so cold. Keith took off his cloak and gently wrapped it around the elf if only to give him as much warmth as possible. He released a ragged breath when eyelids fluttered and he was met once again with those piercing blue eyes. A soft whisper of a voice reached Keith’s ears, “You came.”

Keith pulled the elf closer to his chest, “I came. And now I’m going to bring you home.”

  
Even so close to death, the Summer Prince was beautiful. And it was even more tragic that his weakened smile caused Keith’s heart to stutter as he whispered a soft “Thank you” before closing his eyes and dropping his head to rest near Keith’s heart.

Keith gathered the prince in his arms and ran with the speed of the wind. He took steps three at a time heedless of the slippery stone and somehow managed to mount his horse without losing his grip on the summer prince. And so he rode onward to the Summer Courts.

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~

_Tired little king fly with the Sun_

_Tired little king the night is long_

_Tired little king do not stop for dawn is soon_

_Tired little king the battle is not yet won_

The trek to the Summer Courts was not easy. It was at least a two day journey normally and that was for an elf at full restfulness. The battle for the Winter Courts had been easy but it was still a battle and lasted almost three quarters of a day. Keith was exhausted and battle worn, but he knew he needed to make it to the summer lands so that the land could recognize their true king and healing could begin in the king and the land. His heart threatened to break at every shallow breath from the elf in his arms. He didn’t even know his name, but he felt somehow inexplicably tied to the prince. Keith pushed his horse to its limits, not stopping for water or food. He rode at a grueling pace even as he held the summer prince in his arms. He prayed to the stars, to the land of winter, to the land of summer, to any god that would listen, let him make it in time.

Hours before dawn, Keith heard the tell-tale signs of a battle. He was so close. He rode through skirmishes plowing down anyone in his way. It seemed as if Zarkon had gotten word of the army marching to take back the Summer Courts and met them with his own army miles away from the summer land border, but it wouldn’t matter if Keith could just make to the border, if he could just set the prince on summer land it would all be okay.

Just as the sky began to lighten, Keith’s horse stumbled as one of the enemy sliced at its legs. Keith growled in frustration and leapt just before the horse fell. He hadn’t taken more than two steps when Zarkon appeared before him, blocking his way making it impossible to make it the few steps onto summer land.

“So this is the thanks I get for raising you, taking you in to my castle, feeding you, allowing you to train. You betray me and threaten to take the lands from me with a false king.”

  
Keith squared his shoulders. Even standing straight and tall, he barely reached Zarkon’s shoulders, “He is the true King of Summer and you know it. Otherwise you would let me pass.”

Zarkon laughed, “He is no king. He is barely even alive.”

Keith noticed for the first time that Zarkon held a mace in his hand. He swung the weapon in an elaborate flurry of motions and Keith could only brace for the impact that was sure to come. He would not put down the prince when he was so close to his destination. Keith could only hope that as Zarkon took his first swing that he would be able to duck around and step foot on summer land.

Before Zarkon lifted his arm there was a gurgling noise and a sword was pushed through Zarkon’s chest from behind. Keith could only stare with wide eyes until a familiar voice caught his attention, “Keith run! I’ll hold him off.”

  
Keith nodded once to Shiro and ran with all his might. He watched as sunlight began to burst over the horizon, his footsteps faltering as his exhaustion began to catch up with him. He fell to his knees just as he reached the outermost edges of the summer lands. Keith was too weary to get up, he pulled and dragged the prince until his strength gave out. When he could go no more he cradled the prince in his arms as tears fell from his eyes, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t make it. I tried to bring you home.”

Blue eyes blinked slowly. The summer prince smiled sadly, his voice barely a whisper, “At least I can see my home one last time.”

  
He turned his head towards the sun and Keith felt his heart break when the prince breathed no more. He felt a pain pierce his lungs as he gasped for his own breath, felt his body tremble as he sobbed for a king that would never rule.

When Keith finally lifted his head to wipe his tears he was shocked to find that the fighting had stopped. The battle was over and all of those that were not fighting with Zarkon were on one knee in a half formed circle around Keith, each with their head bowed and a fist over their heart. There was a soft tinkling and the whisper of bells and Keith noticed small berry faeries, about twenty or thirty of them, humming together and weaving small flowers throughout the prince’s hair, “Why do you cry little king?”

  
Keith bowed his head as the tears began again, “I failed.”

The faeries, no bigger than Keith’s fingers, danced around Keith and the prince still in his arms, small flowers in pale pinks, yellows, purples, and orange, sprouting where their feet touched, “What is it you wish for little king?”

  
Keith lifted his head and closed his eyes as the sun hit his face, “To right the wrongs that have been brought to all the land of Faerie.”

One particular faerie fluttered in front of Keith’s face, “Do you not wish for riches and glory?”

Keith shook his head, “I have never known riches or glory. I have only known hardship and loss and yet I have survived. I only want what is right.”

  
The faerie smiled and pressed her tiny lips to Keith’s nose, “Mother Mab hears your heart child. It is done.”

“I don’t understand.”

  
The faerie’s tiny wings fluttered and bits of dust floated from them, “We are all descendants of Mother Mab and she hears her children’s hearts when they are pure and selfless. She has heard and she has answered.”

In the next second, Keith blinked and it was as if the berry faeries had never been. If not for the flowers surrounding him, Keith would have thought it all a dream. When he looked down he was shocked to see blue eyes staring back at him. The prince in his arms was somehow awake and alive, his skin was a beautiful golden brown, his hair littered with flowers was a mop of chestnut curls, his cheeks had a healthy rosy glow. Keith could only blink in awe, “You’re alive!”

The prince smiled, “It appears so.”

  
Keith lifted the prince and they both stood, “I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”

  
The prince tilted his head, “The only name I have ever known is Lance. The Queen Honerva said it was because it was the most useless of weapons, only a knobby stick with one pointed end but still a weapon, and so that was my fate, to be a useless weapon when the time came and so that was to be my name.”

Keith felt his cheeks heat up and would later curse himself for being so bold, “You are no useless weapon for you have pierced my heart from the first time we met. And it is now my honor to welcome you home King Lance.”

Lance tilted his head, “Do I know you?”

  
Keith nodded, “You asked me once to find the true heir and to deliver a message.”

“And did you find him?”

  
“Actually, it was you who found him that day though neither of us knew it at the time.”

  
Lance smiled, “And what is your name so that I may properly thank you?”

“It is Keith.”

  
Lance grabbed one of Keith’s hands and brought it to his lips, “Thank you King Keith for bringing me home.”

~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~

There’s a land that mere mortals have never seen. A land full of faeries and water nymphs, ogres and goblins, elves and sprites. It’s a land more beautiful than any you could ever imagine. The land is said to be ruled by two kings, one full of summer and sun, bronze as if kissed by the sun itself, the other pale as snow and dark hair with eyes like the most violent snowstorm. It is said the kings love each other and they live half of the year in the Courts of the Summer and the other half in the Courts of the Winter. All of faerie love their kings for they are true and just. And though the kings can have no children of their own, they have taken in every child of faerie who is without parents and raised them as their own for years and years so that when the time comes, there will always be a true heir to rule their lands.

**Author's Note:**

> I promise I have not forgotten these prompts. Thanks for everyone that is still reading and leaving kudos, you are all so awesome!!!


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